


It's Nice To Have A Friend

by octothorpetopus



Series: Lover [7]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anxious Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough & Eddie Kaspbrak Are Best Friends, Bullying, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, First Meetings, Fist Fights, Fluff, Gen, Henry Bowers Being an Asshole, Homophobic Language, M/M, POV Eddie Kaspbrak, Rescue, Richie Tozier Flirts, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Song: It's Nice to Have a Friend (Taylor Swift), Stephen King's IT References, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-04 14:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20472641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octothorpetopus/pseuds/octothorpetopus
Summary: In the beginning, just as in the end, it was impossible to tell who saved who the day Henry Bowers almost killed Eddie Kaspbrak.





	It's Nice To Have A Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Warning- I do use the f-slur in this fic.

Eddie wasn't sure what he'd done to piss Bowers off today. Probably nothing. It was always nothing. Or maybe it was the same reason Henry Bowers would try to carve his name into Ben Hanscom's stomach- Eddie had refused to let Henry cheat off of him. If he were anyone but himself, he probably would have gotten away with it. But he was small and nonathletic and an easy target. It was two days before his thirteenth birthday, and he just wanted to get home. It was Friday. If he could get home, then he could avoid Bowers the whole weekend and turn thirteen in peace.

However, God had other plans.

Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Bowers had other plans.

Eddie walked home almost every day. There were days that he and Bill went down to the Barrens and Bill let him ride double on Silver, his short legs dangling off the back of the package carrier. But on the days that he and Bill didn't play, he walked the full mile and a half from Derry Middle School to his house in the outer suburbs, if there even could be suburbs in a town of Derry's size. He walked along with his hands in his pockets, whistling the songs that his mother would never let him listen to at home.

He had almost made it all the way home. His sneakers slapped the pavement of the Kissing Bridge. He could hear the rushing water in the Barrens, and voices over it. Someone was playing down there, probably Bill. He didn’t have time to stop. His mom would have a meltdown if he didn’t get home. 

Maybe if Eddie hadn’t stopped, Bowers wouldn’t have caught him.

Henry Bowers’s fist connected with Eddie’s temple, and Eddie’s vision went white as the pain rocked his body. He tumbled to the ground, reaching back with an arm that would break only a few months later to break his fall.

“How’s it going, faggot?” He snickered and knelt over Eddie, twisting the collar of Eddie’s shirt in his fist so that their faces were mere inches apart.

"Let g-go of me!" Eddie squeaked. Belch Huggins and Victor Criss cackled behind Henry like a pair of evil witches.

"I don't think so, Wheezy. See, you gotta learn your lesson."

_What lesson? What did I do? _Was what Eddie wanted to ask, but his vocal cords seemed to stop working. His breath hitched in his throat and he coughed, his breathing coming now in tight, wheezing gasps.

"Stop it!" Henry snarled, shaking Eddie. "Stop doing that!" Eddie fumbled for his aspirator, but Henry got to it before he could and chucked it over the railing down into the Barrens. He stood abruptly, yanking Eddie with him, so that only the tips of Eddie's double-knotted sneakers barely scraped the ground. The fist that was not holding him by the shirt slammed into his stomach, knocking any remaining wind out of him. Then he threw Eddie, literally _threw him, _across the road, where he landed with a grunt on his right side. He would wake up to a nasty bruise on his hip the next morning, and a cracked rib that went untreated and would eventually heal incorrectly. Victor Criss kicked the base of his spine with what felt like steel-toed boots at the same time Belch Huggins spit a massive white lugie onto Eddie's forehead.

"You like that, fruit? Huh?" Eddie tried to curl into a ball, to turn his head away from the bright sun and the sneering faces that taunted him from above, but once again, a hand grabbed him and dragged him roughly to his feet. They backed him against the railing, and Henry pulled out his switchblade, which gleamed in the sunlight. He lowered the point of the blade against Eddie's cheek. The blood rushed out of Eddie's face.

"No. No no no no no no-" He was cut off when Henry punched him in the nose, and he began to gasp for air again. Once again, the cool silver blade came to rest against his cheek.

"Hey!" This voice came from outside their little group, which was hunched against the weathered wooden railing. "Leave him alone!" Belch and Victor parted, and Eddie caught a glimpse of his savior. It was a kid from Eddie's social studies class, who always goofed off but still got good grades, who was everything Eddie secretly wished he could be- funny and smart and charming and if he had to admit it, a little bit cute.

_"Tozier,"_ Henry growled, and launched himself at the kid, who Eddie was remembering was named Richie. Richie dodged just in time for Bowers to go down face-first on the pavement. "You'll die for that, Trashmouth!" He screeched as he staggered unsteadily to his feet. Richie brought his hands up to his face and bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet like a boxer. Then Belch hit him from behind, and he went sprawling forward into Henry, who clocked him in the face with a quick one-two. Richie stumbled backwards, but shook off the blows as quick as anything. He stepped back so that he was in front of Eddie, covering him, and blocked each blow with the precision of a trained fighter. There was only one of him, however, and though he was bigger than Eddie, he was smaller and younger than Bowers and his friends. It quickly became clear that he was not going to win this fight, until a backpack full of textbooks hit Henry over the head and he crumpled to the ground. Belch and Victor looked at each other, looked at the smaller boys, then at their fearless leader who was passed out cold. They each grabbed Henry by the arm and dragged him away, half-running. Eddie dropped the backpack triumphantly and smiled up at the boy who had come to his rescue. Richie smiled back down at him, his grin slightly marred by his uneven front teeth, but Eddie thought they gave him sort of an edge.

"I'm Richie. Richie Tozier. Pleased to meetcha." He held out a long, slender hand, which Eddie shook, still smiling brilliantly.

"Yeah, I know. You're in my social studies class. I'm-"

"Eddie Kaspbrak, AKA Wheezy. I know. Say, can I call you Eds?"

"Please don't-"

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, Eds." Richie threw an arm around Eddie's shoulders and almost knocked him over. Eddie tried to smile again, but suddenly found himself gasping for breath. "Shit, are you okay?" Richie asked, his expression fading into concern.

"My- my asthma... Bowers... he threw my aspirator..."

"Shit, um... Okay, let's go look for it, then." Richie hopped the fence and stumbled down the hill. He scrambled through the underbrush, and Eddie watched as he tried to get his breathing back under control. After what seemed like hours, Richie whooped victoriously. "Got it!" He clambered back up the hill and tossed the aspirator to Eddie, who took it gratefully and took two quick gasps off of it.

”I’d like to be friends,” Eddie said, finally able to breathe steadily. They were sitting on the riverbank, their arms wrapped around their knees. “I need more friends.”

”I’ve seen you hang around with Stuttering Bill a lot.”

”Yeah. Bill’s my only friend, though. I could use another.” Richie smiled, but it was as sincere as he’d looked all afternoon.

”Good. I don’t have a lot of friends. Most people think I’m annoying.”

”I don’t think you’re annoying.” Richie laughed.

”Not yet, anyway.” He pushed to his feet and offered Eddie his hand. “C’mon. I’ll walk you home. Make sure Bowers doesn’t come after you again.”

”Thanks.” So Richie walked Eddie home, and neither of them realized the whole way there that they were still holding hands.

They saw each other at school on Monday, and instead of a small wave and maybe a quick hello, Richie threw his arm over Eddie’s shoulders. So he and Eddie and Bill became a little group of their own, just three losers who rescued each other, and would keep saving each other until the bitter end.


End file.
